


Fire and Sand

by grand_tano



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29157771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grand_tano/pseuds/grand_tano
Summary: you're an indentured worker in Jabba's Palace on Tatooine. your nonchalant demeanor takes Boba Fett by surprise -- he's intrigued by you. smut ensues.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Reader, Boba Fett & You, Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

The first time you met Boba Fett, you were on your knees, scrubbing blood out of the stone tiled floor in the throne room of Jabba’s palace. There had been some sort of altercation in this room the day previous that had resulted in quite the nasty stain – unfortunately, that sort of thing was all in a day’s work for you. 

You’d seen the bounty hunter around before, and you’d heard rumors about him – that he was dangerous, that he’d never let a bounty escape, and, most of all, that he was a… prolific lover, to put it delicately – but you’d never exchanged more than a passing glance. 

He’d seen you around, as well, and had wondered in passing who you were. Most of Jabba’s girls danced, served drinks – but he only ever saw you cleaning. You scrubbed away at tables, windows, floors, every surface in the palace that could get dirty, your job was to keep it clean. He thought you were quite pretty, and when he saw you kneeling over a sizable blood stain, he worried that you may be hurt. 

“You alright there, girl?” he asked. His voice was modified by the vocoder in his helmet, but you could hear the concern in his tone all the same. 

“Yep. Blood’s not mine.” you quipped, and turned your attention back to the stain. 

“Whose is it?” he asked. 

“Dunno.” you shrugged. 

Boba was surprised by your nonchalant tone – usually, when people spoke to him, they were intimidated and nervous, but you seemed unbothered. Unfazed. There was something about you and your demeanor that made him smile under his helmet. 

“Hmm.” the bounty hunter hummed and walked away, and that was that. 

\--

The next time you spoke to Boba Fett was a few days later. You were wiping down tables, nearly ready to leave for the day, when he came around the corner. 

“Girl.” 

You jumped a foot in the air and clutched your heart. 

“Kriff, Fett, you scared the shit out of me.” you breathed. 

He offered no apology, just cocked his head at you. 

“Do you need something?” you asked, still trying to get your heart rate back down to normal. 

“You’re on edge.” he observed. 

“Yes, well, I work for a man who regularly feeds his employees to a rancor, so you’ll have to excuse me.” you quipped. 

You had started to calm down when you saw it was him – usually, Boba Fett found he had the opposite effect on people. 

“Careful, little one.” he warned. A smile played on his lips behind his visor, though you couldn’t see it. Maybe if you had, you would have bit back with a clever remark instead of apologizing to him. 

“I’m sorry, sir. You just startled me. What can I do for you?” 

“Jabba wants to see you.” he informed you, and turned to lead you to the throne room. 

“Kriff.” you steeled yourself and followed him. 

“[Girl! I am very disappointed in you!]” Jabba grumbled in Huttese from his place on the throne. 

Anger bubbled up in your chest, though you did your best to push it back down. Fett, though, seemed to be on to you – he cocked his head from his place on the dais next to the Hutt. 

“May I ask why, sir?” you asked, though you already knew the answer. 

“[There is still blood staining my floor! You are here to keep the place clean! A simple task, though you seem to be failing!]” Jabba berated you. 

“With all due respect, Great Jabba, perhaps if you stopped having people killed in places where you would rather not have their blood spilled –” 

“[Your insolence will only earn you more time in my service.]” Jabba warned you. “[Get out of my sight.]” 

Tears of anger and frustration stung your eyes as you turned to leave, but you were careful not to let them spill until you were out of sight. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were weak. You returned instead to the tables you had been wiping down before, and allowed yourself to cry softly as you finished your work for the day. 

“Why are you crying, girl?” Fett asked from across the room. 

You hadn’t realized he had followed you into the room. You cursed yourself silently for not checking that you were alone before allowing yourself this display of emotion. 

“I’m not.” you lied, swiping at the tears on your cheeks with your sleeve. 

“You are.” 

He crossed the room in a few strides and stared you down. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through the visor of his helmet, you could feel his stare burning into your face. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. 

“You’re too pretty to cry, little one.” he said, and brushed his gloved hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him through your tears. “Tell me why you’ve let tears mar this beautiful face.” 

“Why should I tell you anything about me? You work for him.” you spat.

“Anything you tell me stays with me.” he assured you. “I don’t care much for Jabba, other than the credits he pays me. And like I said, mesh’la, you’re too pretty to cry.” 

You eyed him suspiciously – he simply cocked his head at you again. 

“If I wanted to get you into trouble with the boss, I could just tell him about the tone you’ve taken with me.” he reasoned. 

You supposed that was true – if Boba meant you harm, he’d have already harmed you. With a huff, you turned away from him and started gathering your cleaning supplies into a basket, and started telling the bounty hunter what had you so upset. 

“Two years ago, I got caught in a sandstorm. I was trying to get home, but the storm was so bad, I couldn’t see six inches in front of me. I wandered around in it, trying to get my bearings, but I couldn’t. Eventually, I stumbled in that door.” you explained, nodding toward the door that led outside. “Some of Jabba’s slaves took care of me. They gave me water, washed the sand out of my eyes. And Jabba decided that meant I owed him. He said I needed to work off my debt.” you explained. 

“He made you a slave?” Boba asked. 

“He tried.” you nodded, and started walking to stow the basket of supplies in a closet. “He said I could work for him, unpaid, for 5 years. But I am not a slave, and I demanded a wage. He said it would take longer to work off my debt if he paid me. I told him I didn’t care how long it took – I wouldn’t dance for him, and I wouldn’t be chained to his throne. But he keeps threatening to add time to my debt every time I so much as miss a spec of a bloodstain.” 

“Do you think yourself better than the slaves?” Boba followed you across the room. 

“No.” you shook your head. “Those girls had no choice in the matter – if they demanded wages, Jabba would kill them, or worse. But he didn’t buy me, he happened upon me. The only difference between me and the dancers is an ounce of good luck.”

“That and your tongue.” 

It was your turn to cock your head at Boba, now. You looked at him, brow quirked inquisitively. 

Boba thought you looked gorgeous like that, eyes glinting with defiance. He felt something stir in the pit of his stomach at the sight. Before, you’d just been a pretty face around the palace, albeit an intriguing one – now, he could see that you were a spitfire, a force to be reckoned with. He decided, then, that he wanted you. 

“Not many people in this palace would talk back to Jabba. You’ve got a mouth on you, mesh’la.” he quipped. 

You had finished stowing your supplies in the closet, now, and turned to face him, hands on your hips. 

“Yes, well, I won’t be pushed around by that awful slug.” 

“He’d have your head if he found out you called him that.” Boba warned. 

“Will he find out? Are you not a man of your word? Doesn’t anything I tell you stay with you, Fett?” you challenged. 

“I wouldn’t say anything that could get you killed, mesh’la. If you die, I don’t get to see your pretty face around here anymore.” Boba took another step towards you, and lowered his voice. “If you ever want to forget your troubles, you’d be welcome in my bed any time.” 

“Are you propositioning me, Fett?” you asked incredulously. 

“Yes.” he shrugged. “All you have to do is say the word.” 

You were taken aback by the boldness of the man before you – your instinct was to try and come up with a clever quip or biting remark, but you found you came up short. Instead you just stood there, mouth agape, disbelief on your face. 

Rumor had it, Boba had had plenty of the girls in the palace. He had a reputation among the girls as a heart-breakingly incredible lover. Every girl who had been with him claimed it was the best fuck of their life, and you could always tell who he’d been with most recently by who couldn’t stop gushing about him and giggling every time he walked in a room. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what it was like to be taken to bed by the famous Boba Fett – but you’d never seen his face, so it was hard to imagine. Not that that had stopped you. Tatooine is a desolate desert, and Mos Eisley isn’t exactly brimming with eligible bachelors, so you spent most nights in bed alone, with nothing but your imagination and your own two hands to keep you company. 

“It’s an open offer.” Boba said, and walked past you to leave the room. 

He was almost to the door when you whipped around to face him once more. 

“Fett.” you called after him. 

He looked at you over his shoulder. 

“Yes.” you said resolutely. 

He smirked under his helmet and motioned wordlessly for you to follow him. 

Boba led you down a series of winding hallways, to a wing of the palace you’d never visited. He stopped at the end of a hall, where he punched in a security code and opened a heavy door to reveal his quarters. He waved you inside and closed the door behind him. 

Weapons of all kinds hung on the walls – blasters, knives, spears, and plenty others you didn’t recognize. A heavy-looking bag of credits sat on a small table, along with a stack of books. You couldn’t read the titles scribbled on the spines, but you recognized the language: Mando’a. You realized that word he’d been calling you, mesh’la, was a Mando’a word – you resolved to look it up later. At the center of the room sat a massive bed, larger than any you’d ever slept in – in fact, the room itself was nearly larger than your entire home. 

“This room is the size of my house.” you huffed. 

“It’s good enough, when I’m on-planet. Though I mostly live out of my ship.” 

His voice sounded different. You turned to face him – he’d removed his helmet, and he was working on the rest of his armor as he spoke. 

Seeing his face nearly took your breath away. The girls all said he was gorgeous to look at – you thought that was criminally understating it. Curly black hair framed a dark, tanned face. Full lips curled into a knowing smile and dark eyes looked you over with a hungry gaze. 

You were disarmed by the sight of him, and he could tell. He always relished this part, when the girls whose faces he’d already studied saw him for the first time. Some recognized him – there were hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of men in the galaxy who shared his face – but you had never met a clone, and he savored the look on your face, smirking at the way your eyes raked over him. He could see in the way that your eyes met his and darkened hungrily that you’d be just as much of a spitfire in bed as you had been earlier.

Boba snapped off the final piece of his beskar and laid it down carefully with the rest, and stalked his way over to the bed, eyes on you the entire time. He sat down with his back against the headboard and patted his thigh, wordlessly beckoning you over to him. You crossed the room and climbed onto the bed to straddle his lap. Your hands found his shoulders, and his rested on your waist. After a beat, you leaned forward and kissed him hungrily. 

He responded immediately – his grip on your waist tightened, and one hand slipped beneath your thin tunic to ghost his fingers over the bare skin of your back. You shivered at the feeling, and he smiled smugly into the kiss, and pushed the hem of your tunic up to palm your breast. A low moan escaped your lips when he rolled your nipple gently between two fingers, and he pulled away from the kiss to take you in. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked, his tone slightly teasing. 

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to find a decent man to fuck in a place like Mos Eisley.” you quipped, and stripped off your tunic and discarded it on the floor. 

“And you think I’ll be a decent fuck?” Boba quirked an eyebrow, both hands on your breasts now. 

“I’m counting on you being better than decent, Fett.” you smirked. 

You leaned forward to kiss him again, but he caught you by the jaw, holding your face up to his own closely. 

“I think you’ll be satisfied, princess.” he purred. 

He moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your neck and pulled you toward him to kiss you again. The hand on your breast moved down and into the waistband of your pants – he blew some air out his nose in a soft laugh when he felt how slick you already were beneath your undergarments. He slipped a finger past your entrance and pumped it slowly, all the while rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, and your hands flew to the back of his head, clutching at the curls there to keep from bucking your hips. 

“Fuck, Boba.” you hissed. 

He gave a self-satisfied smirk, and you wanted to roll your eyes at him, though you found you could do little but stare at him, mouth agape.

He slipped a second finger inside you, never breaking his rhythm. His hand moved with you as you rolled your hips against his thighs, and at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your thigh, you could feel yourself starting to come undone. You hadn’t expected to reach your release so quickly, but Boba was right that it had been a while. Quite a while. 

Your first orgasm crashed over you like a wave. You saw stars – a halo of them, around Boba’s face as he looked on, enchanted by the sight of you looking so blissful. Boba’s name fell from your lips alongside a flurry of curses, and his thumb stayed on your clit until your orgasm passed and your eyes focused back up. 

You pushed yourself off his lap on shaky legs and laid on your back next to him in the bed. He watched as your breasts rose and fell with your labored breaths and chuckled to himself when you looked up at him, still a little starry-eyed. 

“You ready to tap out, princess?” 

The stars in your eyes left abruptly, replaced by the fire he was more used to seeing there. 

“Not even close.” 

Boba’s face screwed into a feral grin and he tugged his tunic over his head and grabbed you by the waist. In a moment, he was on top of you, leaning on one elbow and looking down at you from above. He leaned down, his bare chest pressed to your own, to kiss you harshly, and he ground his hips into your own. You could feel his cock through his pants, but before you could come up with a clever way to tell him to get his damn clothes off, he’d hooked a finger into your waistband and tugged your pants down just far enough to plunge two fingers deep inside you. That elicited a low moan from you, and Boba felt his cock twitch – he needed to fuck you. 

Boba pulled his fingers from your pussy and sucked them clean, savoring the taste of your first release before pushing them past your own lips. You sucked his fingers greedily, gagging slightly when his fingertips touched the back of your throat. 

He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop, and climbed off of you just long enough to grab your bottoms and yank them down, tossing them across the room haphazardly, along with his own pants. His cock, freed from its place pressed against his thigh in his pants, sprung forth – it was easily the largest you’d seen, and you felt yourself clench around nothing, wishing he’d put it between your legs. 

Boba climbed back on top of you and brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. Leaning on one of his elbows with his face mere inches from your own, he met your eyes and found that he was intoxicated by the fiery desire he found there. 

“What do you want, princess?” he stared you down. 

“You won’t get me to beg, Boba.” you stared back defiantly. 

“I’m not asking you to beg. I’m asking what you want.” he reasoned, moving his free hand to his cock and pumping it lazily. 

You were silent for a beat – he was playing some sort of game, picking on the fiery defiance he’d observed in you earlier, and while part of you wanted to win his little game, you were much more interested in getting your insides rearranged. 

“I want you to fuck me, Boba.” you enunciated. 

He stared you down for another silent moment. 

“Please.” you purred. 

“What was that about not getting you to beg?” he quipped. 

You opened your mouth to bite back, but before you could get a word out, he slipped his cock into your core and slammed his hips forwards, and the only sound you could make was somewhere between a scream and a moan. 

When you found your voice again, the only words you could produce were curses and his name, stuttered between breathy moans. He rutted into you, slowly at first, and increasing his pace steadily, hitting the tightly wound bundle of nerves in your pelvis with every stroke. 

You were a sight to see, eyes wide and mouth agape beneath him, breasts bouncing as he fucked you senseless. He leaned down and kissed you hard, and bit your bottom lip gently before pulling away so he could look at you again. He thought you might be the prettiest girl he’d ever brought back to this bed, especially laying underneath him like this. 

You were already cresting the hill toward your second release – when Boba reached down and rubbed your clit with two fingers, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts, you felt the bundle in the pit of your stomach tighten and snap, and you came with a scream. 

“Such a good girl, mesh’la.” Boba crooned, moving his hand from your clit to your face to swipe your cheekbone with his thumb. “So beautiful, what a good girl.” 

Boba’s own release came at the feeling of you clenching around him – his once rhythmic thrusts stuttered, and he groaned, eyes half-lidded with bliss as he filled you up. His seed dripped from you as he pulled out, and after pausing a moment to catch his breath, he descended on your center, lapping at your combined releases with his tongue. 

“Maker, Boba, you’re gonna be the death of me.” you sighed. 

He paused and peered up at you from between your thighs – the sight of him with both your cum on his chin was enough to make you moan. 

“I didn’t say stop.” you quipped. 

Boba smiled and turned his attention back to your cunt, flicking his tongue over your clit before plunging it into you, and it was all you could do not to buck your hips into his face. You ran your fingers through the curls atop his head, writhing with pleasure as he licked and sucked to his heart’s content. He pressed down on your hips with the palms of his hands, doing his best to keep you still, but that was a futile effort when your third orgasm came.

It was sudden, with hardly any time between realizing you were close and cumming, and it robbed you blind. With your eyes screwed shut, you were sure there was nothing in the galaxy but the two of you in that moment – everything else ceased to exist and all that was real was Boba’s mouth on your center and his hands on your hips. 

You laid there, seeing stars and breathing heavy, for what felt like forever. Really, only a few moments passed before Boba pulled himself up and laid down next to you. He propped himself up on one elbow and laid on his side, looking down at you proudly. 

Once you’d caught your breath, Boba reached over and wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“So? Was I a decent fuck?” he teased. 

“Fuck you.” you sighed and shook your head. 

“Alright.” he nodded. “Whenever you want.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls.” you waved him off. 

“I don’t.” he shook his head. “I mean it. Whenever you want. I’d like to have you here again very soon, princess.” 

“Keep that up and you won’t be able to get rid of me.” you quipped. 

He smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips – this one was gentle, careful, almost loving, nothing like the harsh, hungry kisses you’d shared in the heat of the moment. 

And in that moment, you caught feelings for Boba Fett. 

He died a month later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba returns to Tatooine, and you're reunited with him. more smut ensues.

In the month between your first encounter and his death, Boba took you back to his quarters four more times. Every time, you had to work a little harder than the last to hide that you had not just sexual, but romantic feelings for the bounty hunter. He treated you like a person, not a maid, and he listened when you talked, and he always kept everything you said to himself, just like he’d promised. You felt like you could breathe when you were around him – there weren’t many other people in Mos Eisley you could say that about. 

Little did you know, Boba was harboring feelings of his own. Normally, he had no qualms about seeing more than a few girls at a time, but in the month after his first time with you, he took no other girls back to his bed. He was enamored with your defiant spirit – you were tenacious, fiery, independent. The two of you bickered, bit back at one another’s clever quips and biting comments, just as you had when you first met, but there was never anger behind it – the undertone was always familiarity, a mutual feeling of being comfortable with one another. Boba took pride in being the only person in the palace you ever smiled at. He wasn’t sure if you shared his feelings, but he thought you might. He hoped you did. 

He had been trying to work out a plan to run away – put you on Slave I, give you a new identity, and leave Tatooine for good, save you from this awful hand you’d been dealt by this godforsaken desert planet and Jabba the Hutt – but when you report directly to people like Jabba and Darth Vader, it’s not exactly easy to just… disappear. He would have worked something out, eventually – if anyone could pull off a scheme that daring, it was Boba – but he fell in the sarlacc pit before he got the chance. 

When he pulled himself out of that pit, he thought for certain he’d never see you again. 

\--

You had tried to escape your debt when you heard Jabba was dead, but Bib Fortuna had claimed your debt was now owed to him, and he had threatened to send bounty hunters after you and have you fed to the pit, yourself, should you try to run away. So you went back to cleaning the palace and cooking in the kitchens, all while mourning your lost bounty hunter. 

You were in the kitchens now, putting together a massive platter of Bib’s favorite delicacies. You heard some kind of commotion, but you’d grown used to tuning noises like that out in the palace. You focused your attention on making sure the platter was arranged to Bib’s liking, and you were eyeing the exotic meats and expensive fruits, making sure nothing rolled off the platter and onto the floor, as you came through the door into the throne room. 

“Alright Sir, here’s your –”

You looked up to see Bib, slumped over on the dais, a blaster wound through his chest. Your jaw dropped, the platter in your hands clattered to the floor, you felt panic rising in your heart – you forced yourself to look up to the throne. 

A man in Boba Fett’s armor sat there, and a woman holding a handle of spotchka sat on the arm of the chair. Both held blasters, and both stared at you. 

“Who the hell are you and where did you find Boba Fett’s beskar?” you demanded to know. 

You were furious. Who did this guy think he was? Where had he found the beskar? What gave him the right to wear it? 

Boba could see the fire in your eyes. You were coiled tight, ready to pounce, and he knew that if it weren’t for the blaster on his hip and Fennec sitting next to him with a rifle of her own, you would have much harsher words for the man you thought was an imposter. 

He felt an ache in his chest as he looked down at you from the throne. He knew you might be here, but he hadn’t allowed himself to hope to see you for fear of disappointment. You looked just as defiant, just as gorgeous as you had the last time he saw you so long ago. 

You were still staring them down, eyes flicking between the man and the woman who still had yet to identify themselves. And though you maintained your outward composure, in the back of your mind, your anger was turning to fear – who were these people? What did they want? Would they kill you? 

The strange man and the woman looked at each other and, with a wordless nod, the woman stood from the arm of the throne and walked away, disappearing down a back hallway. 

The man lifted the helmet off his head with both hands. Slowly, his face revealed itself – when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t hold back your tears.

“Boba?” you breathed, not believing your eyes. 

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Boba smiled and waved you over. “Come here, mesh’la.” 

You crossed the room in a few long strides and leapt into Boba’s lap and pull him into a hug. He placed his helmet down on the arm of the throne, and wrapped both his arms around your torso tightly. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, your other hand clutching the back of his now-bald head. You took shaky breaths, trying with little success to stem the flow of your tears, and pressed your lips to his cheek. You clutched him tightly, and silently thanked all the Gods for returning him to you. 

After a moment to catch your breath, you pulled away just enough to get a good look at him, to take him in. 

Boba was covered in new scars, both from fights and the sarlacc’s caustic stomach acid. But he looked so happy. His eyes glimmered, and he smiled softly as he stroked your hair gently, his other hand placed firmly in the middle of your back. You stared at him for a moment, trying to convince yourself that, yes, this was really happening, you were really this lucky. And then you leaned forward and you kissed him hard, and the feeling of his lips on yours was familiar and comforting and warm. Your hands found his cheeks and you swiped your thumbs across the scars there, both new and old, and you rested your forehead against his and breathed him in. 

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you were dead.” you breathed. 

“I’m here, mesh’la. I’m alive, and you’re free.” he assured you. 

“You sure you’re not just gonna tell me I owe you now? That’s what Bib did.” you raised an eyebrow, though Boba could tell you were teasing. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing Bib’s dead.” Boba shrugged. “You’ll never work another day in your life, princess. You’re free.” 

A smile broke across your face – and a breath caught in your throat. With Bib dead, your debt was null. You were a free woman, for the first time in many, many years. You could do whatever you wanted, go wherever you pleased. And you’d certainly imagined leaving Mos Eisley, leaving Tatooine – but you found you couldn’t picture doing either of those things, now, for some reason. 

Boba felt his heart aching. He knew you had dreams of leaving Tatooine for good – he figured that’s what you’d do now. He wished you’d stay here, with him, but he knew he couldn’t ask that of you. He resolved to give you passage on Slave I to wherever you wanted to go. That way he’d know you arrived safely, and he’d know exactly where you were so he could always come and see you. 

“What will you do with your newfound freedom?” Boba asked. There was a smile on his lips, but the glint in his eyes was gone, replaced with a dull, aching sadness at the prospect of you leaving. 

“I don’t know.” you puzzled, staring into the middle distance. “I… always used to dream about going somewhere else. Somewhere where there aren’t sandstorms. Somewhere no one’s ever even heard of a Hutt.” 

“I know of many places like that.” Boba offered. 

“But… I can’t imagine leaving. I…” you trailed off. You focused your eyes, met Boba’s gaze. “If I asked to stay here, with you, would you have me?” 

Your voice was small. Boba had never seen you this meek. It tugged on his heartstrings. He wanted nothing more than for you to stay here, with him, forever, but he knew you resented the Palace, and what he truly wanted was for you to be happy. 

“You hate this place, mesh’la.” he reasoned. 

“But I love you, Boba.” 

You were quiet – barely above a whisper – and you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, for fear that he wouldn’t return your feelings. You wished for the millionth time that you’d just been brave enough to tell him how you felt before he fell in the sarlacc pit – you figured you’d just have to be brave now, instead. 

“I love you so much more than I’ve ever hated Mos Eisley. It’s true that I have awful memories here, but there’s no one I’d rather make better ones with than you.” 

The light crept back into Boba’s eyes, and his lips crashed into yours harshly, and you could feel his smile against your lips. Your eyelids fluttered and closed, and you savored the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, holding you so close and so tight that might as well be a part of him. You wished you could live in this moment forever. 

Eventually, though, Boba released you from the mind-numbingly blissful kiss and spoke. 

“I love you, mesh’la. I want you to do what will make you happy.” 

“Remember when I warned you that you’d never be able to get rid of me?” you smiled. 

“Mm.” he nodded. 

“I’m staying.” you said resolutely. 

“Then we ought to start making happy memories in this place.” Boba reasoned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

From your place in his lap, you could feel his half-hard cock through his pants, and you felt an ache in the pit of your stomach. You hadn’t been with anyone since Boba “died,” and just the idea of having sex with him again had you wet. You knew you were about to be putty in his hands. 

“Maker, I missed you.” you breathed.

You shifted so that you were straddling Boba’s lap and ground your hips into his thighs – you felt his cock twitch underneath you, and you sighed contentedly into a hard, hungry kiss. He palmed your breast through the thin material of your tunic and reached around with his other hand to grab your ass – though when he did, he realized he’d forgotten all about Bib Fortuna’s corpse on the floor. 

“Kriff.” he breathed, and lifted you off his lap to stand. 

Boba sat you down on the throne and got to work kicking Bib’s corpse across the floor with the toe of his boot – you looked on somewhat bemusedly as he made quick work of getting the man who had made your life hell as of late out of sight. 

“Thank you for killing that piece of rancor shit.” you smiled at Boba as he made his way back over to you. 

“It was my pleasure, princess. Now let’s get back to those new happy memories.” he said, looking at you like you were his next meal. 

You moved to stand up from your seat on the throne, but Boba put one hand firmly in the center of your chest and held you in your spot. He stood over you and leaned down to kiss you before moving downwards. He pushed your tunic up over your chest and you tugged it over your head and discarded it, and he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked gently, palming your other breast with his hand. 

“So beautiful.” he crooned, grazing kisses and gentle love bites all over your breasts. “Mesh’la, missed you so much. So perfect.” 

You sighed contentedly as he continued downwards, leaving a trail of kisses on your ribcage and stomach before falling to his knees before your open legs. He grabbed your pants by the waistband and you lifted yourself off the throne for a moment so he could pull them down. He tossed them over his shoulder and pulled you closer to the edge of the chair, and pushed your knees apart so he could see your wet, hot cunt. 

On his knees before you, he looked as if he were in prayer, worshipping you as if you were one of the Gods above. He slipped two fingers past your entrance and pumped them steadily. 

“So wet, mesh’la.” he hummed. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while.” you shrugged, though your breath hitched when his thumb swiped your clit, detracting slightly from your teasing tone of voice. 

“How long?” he questioned. 

“How long has it been since you died?” you countered. 

His smile changed from dreamy and loving to feral and hungry in an instant. 

“That’s my girl.” he crooned. “What a good girl you are, my princess.” 

“I’m all yours.” you nodded. 

He descended on your center, then, lapping at your wetness greedily, like his life depended on it, like you were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted and he hadn’t eaten in days. You spoke his name over and over like a prayer, your hands on his head between your thighs as he brought you closer and closer to total bliss. His tongue found your clit and his fingers kept up their rhythm, pumping in and out of you steadily. Your breathing was ragged, now, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to take much more of this without coming undone. 

“Boba, I’m so close.” you breathed heavily. 

He hummed in response, and the feeling of his lips vibrating gently against your core was enough to send you over the edge. 

Boba rode out your orgasm with you, not moving his mouth from your center until you pushed his head away. Your legs were shaking, and you could tell from the slick feeling between your thighs and the sheen of your release on Boba’s chin that you were sitting in a puddle of your own making. Boba gave a wicked smile and stood to kiss you – his lips tasted like you. 

“Your turn.” you purred, and stood from the throne. 

He cocked his head at you and looked on, enthralled at the sight of your naked form before him. He watched as you circled around him, and allowed you to push him down so that he was sitting on the throne. It was your turn to fall to your knees before him – he removed his codpiece and you pulled the waistband of his pants down just enough to allow access to his hard cock. 

You ducked your head down and dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock slowly, maintaining eye contact as you did. You felt him shiver and heard him suppress a moan when you took his length into your mouth. Try as you might, you couldn’t fit all of him – you pumped what you couldn’t reach with your hand, swirling your tongue around him and bobbing your head in a steady rhythm. 

You felt his hands in your hair, gathering loose strands in his calloused hands and pushing them out of your face. He stroked your hair fondly and praised you softly, his breath hitching every so often as you sucked his cock. 

“My perfect princess. So pretty on your knees for me. What a beautiful girl. I love you, mesh’la.” 

You heard his breathing quicken and you felt his legs begin to shiver – before you could bring him to his climax, though, he used his grip on your hair to gently pull your head up. You released his cock from between your lips and felt saliva and precum dripping down your chin as you smiled up at him. His eyes were nearly closed, lids heavy with bliss, as he beckoned you up onto his lap. 

You straddled Boba’s thighs, and used one hand to guide his cock into your center as you took your seat in his lap. He swiped at your wet chin with his thumb before pushing it up to your parted lips. You took his thumb into your mouth and he rested the palm of his hand against your cheek as you sucked on it. He moved both his hands to your hips, then, and dug his fingers into your hips as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock. He was mesmerized, watching as your breasts bounced along with the rest of you. He met each of your movements with a thrust of his own hips, and you arched your back and groaned loudly when you felt him hit the bundle of nerves deep inside you in the pit of your stomach. 

Your jaw went slack when he shifted one of his hands to rub circles on your clit with his thumb. You cursed up a storm, unable to form a coherent thought in the euphoria of the moment. 

“Fuck, Boba, kriffing – oh, shit, yes, oh, Maker, fuck me –” 

You and Boba came at the same time. The edges of your vision blurred, and all you could see was Boba’s face, eyes screwed shut and lips parted as a string of curses poured from his lips. You could feel his seed filling you up, hot and wet between your legs, as you breathed heavily. You clenched around his cock, milking every drop of cum from him, and his eyelids fluttered open. He felt like he was in a trance, as if your breasts, rising and falling with each labored breath you took, had hypnotized him. But your hands on his shoulders grounded him, and he pulled you close to him. You slumped forwards in his lap, resting your cheek against the cool beskar of his chest plate, and he held you close with one arm, and stroked your hair with his other hand. 

Once you’d caught your breath, you sat back up and shifted so that you sat sideways in his lap. Your legs were slung over one arm of the throne as he cradled you in his arms, looking down at you with so much love in his eyes that you felt yourself blush. 

“So? Was I a decent fuck?” he teased, calling back to the first time he’d ever taken you to his bed. 

You simply nodded, smiling wide. 

“What, no clever little remark?” he teased. 

“I’m sure I’ll think of one later.” you sighed. “For now, I just want to sit here and be held by you.” 

Boba hummed softly in agreement. 

“I’d like that, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to keep writing about these two, but considering we don't currently know what's next for Boba in canon, there's a good chance this fic will go on hiatus for a while. with that said, keep an eye out here and on Tumblr (grand-tano.tumblr.com) for any updates!

**Author's Note:**

> look out for chapter 2 here and on tumblr (grand-tano.tumblr.com)


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